


Bits of Lingering Frost

by crazygirlne



Series: No Superhero [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Acceptance, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Love, Post-Season/Series 03, Support, finding self
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 01:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazygirlne/pseuds/crazygirlne
Summary: “Caitlin,” Cisco breathes before stammering, “O-or not— I mean—”“It’s okay, Cisco,” she says. “I’d prefer it if you call me Snow, but I’m not going to kill you for forgetting.”Harrison feels two pairs of eyes on him as she requests they use the name he called her so often, but he resolutely ignores them both, instead watching Snow until she gives him the smallest of nods. He stays where he is as she enters the cortex properly, moving closer to Cisco.“Does that mean,” Ramon asks, “that you’re gonna stick around long enough for us to have a chance to forget?”“I’d like to try,” she says, coming to a stop near one of the many monitors. “If you’ll have me.”





	Bits of Lingering Frost

**Author's Note:**

> After the S3 Flash finale, I had to put together how I imagined future Snowells could look.
> 
> So I did.
> 
> Series of scenes spanning months, starting shortly after the finale. Obviously, some spoilers for the finale.
> 
> Proofed during a migraine, which is a bad idea, okay? But written the day before, so nothing should be terrible.

"You're back," she says, coming to a stop in front of him, arms crossed. Her mouth twitches like she can't decide whether to smile or frown.  
  
Harrison nods. "So are you." It seems the logical response, but it tips her in favor of the frown.  
  
"I'm not, not really. I'm not Caitlin anymore." Her arms fall to her sides. "I don't know who I am."  
  
He steps closer. "I know who you are, Snow. Doesn't matter what you go by or what powers you have. You're still brilliant, and caring, and an asset to this team."  
  
The frown smoothes over. "An asset, hmm?" She isn't smiling, but her eyes are brighter, and he figures he's on the right track.  
  
"An asset, a benefit. A friend."  
  
She considers him for long seconds. "Am I _your_ friend, Harry?"  
  
"Aren't you?" It doesn't come out quite as mildly as he's aiming for, more challenge than anything.  
  
Snow finally cracks a smile. "I guess I am." Her smile drops as suddenly as it appeared. “I still need to figure out who I am for myself. I can’t just let people tell me who that is.”

Harrison nods. “I understand that. I do.” He hesitates a moment. “Still, you’re welcome here in S.T.A.R. Labs as often as you’d like while you figure out who you are. Or…”

He pauses too long this time; she raises her eyebrows, looking amused again. He’s glad, given all that’s happened, she can still look at anyone with humor.

“Or we can meet elsewhere, if being here is too much,” he finishes.

She nods slowly. “I’d like that, I think.”

***

Snow slides into what’s become their normal booth, looking exasperated.

She’s also dripping wet, almost as much steam rising from her hair as from her cup of coffee.

“How are you dry, Harry?”

He contains a smile, but it’s a near thing. “There’s this amazing invention. Maybe you’ve heard of it: it’s called an umbrella.”

“You’re impossible.” She hides her own smile behind her cup, taking a careful sip.

He is much too fond of this woman, and he suspects he does a terrible job of hiding it. Luckily, nobody at S.T.A.R. Labs seems to have found out about their get togethers, which started out weekly and have ended up near daily.

As if following his line of thought, Snow sets down her cup to ask, “How is the team doing?”

She hasn’t been ready to ask about the others, so he weighs his options before he responds.

“Barry is adjusting as well as can be expected after his time in the speed force. Cisco says it’s like season six of Buffy, but less depressing.”

Her smile is distracted, like her mind is elsewhere—perhaps in S.T.A.R. Labs with Cisco—but despite that, she looks amused as she studies him. “You have no idea what he means by that, do you?”

“None whatsoever,” Harry answers easily, watching her relax.

“He means Barry’s having trouble because things were good for him in the speed force, and here is…” Snow trails off for a few seconds. “Well, it’s life.”

Harry nods. “That’s accurate. He’s doing okay, though. He and Iris have been doing well, and they’re moving forward with the wedding. As for the others, Jesse and Wally are both working on their speed, picking up what Barry can’t handle just yet, and Cisco is… Cisco.” He considers her before he continues. “He misses you.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “I miss him, too. I’m just not ready.”

“Perfectly reasonable,” he says. “How did your experiments go yesterday?” It’s not quite as much of a subject change as it could be; while adjusting to who she is now, Snow has been dabbling in the sciences that have always been something of a passion for her. Harrison helped her find a private lab early on, where she could work to her heart’s content without being disturbed.

Her smile is much less guarded as they move into discussing the sciences, and the topic keeps them until their drinks are both gone and Snow’s mostly dry. It’s not an uncommon occurrence, really; both of them get carried away with it at times, and it helps that they’re each able to contribute to the other’s ideas and theories. When the conversation winds down, she looks down at her empty cup, seeming to try to come to a decision.

She looks up at him. “What about Julian and Tracy? How are they?”

He hates how much guilt is in her expression. She didn’t even really know Tracy, but he knows Snow blames herself, at times, for H.R.’s death, thinks that if she’d been on the right side of things, everybody might’ve come out alive.

It’s true, probably, but he thinks things would’ve been much smoother if he himself had stuck around instead of going back to Earth-2.

“They’re…” He sighs, then leans back in his chair. “Tracy didn’t really stick around. She might’ve if I hadn’t been there, but as it was, I think I was too much of a reminder. Julian lasted a little longer, but he doesn't really come around anymore.”

It’s possible he’d had some influence on Julian’s decision to give up on waiting for Caitlin to ever come back. Harry had some sympathy for the man; he knew exactly how captivating this woman could be, knew how quickly risking life and limb to save her could become a given. Still, he wasn’t about to encourage Julian to wait for a version of Snow that no longer existed. It might’ve been different if he seemed more willing to accept her changes as permanent instead of something to overcome.

As it is, though, Harrison’s guilt over Julian’s departure is lessened significantly by the fact that he truly believes Snow will have an easier time of things with the other man gone.

“Okay.” Snow, who’s been so confident, so much more sure of herself today than he expected given the topics she broached, seems to have shrunk in on herself, and Harry leans forward, resting his hand over hers in the middle of the small table.

“None of this is your fault, Snow,” he says.

Her eyes are bright, this time with unshed tears rather than amusement. “What if I’ve lost them all, Harry?”

“You haven’t,” he says emphatically, squeezing her hand and feeling some measure of relief when she returns the pressure. “The moment you’re ready to come back to S.T.A.R. Labs, we’re all ready to have you. Even if that time never comes, you can still see everyone outside of the lab—again, when you’re ready. And until then…” He runs a thumb across the back of her hand. “Until then, Snow, you’ve got me.”

***

More time passes, but one day, Harrison hears familiar footsteps in the corridor just outside the cortex. He turns to see Snow come to a stop at the entrance, arms crossed and expression unsure. The room falls silent as Barry and Cisco notice her, as well.

“Caitlin,” Cisco breathes before stammering, “O-or not— I mean—”

“It’s okay, Cisco,” she says. “I’d prefer it if you call me Snow, but I’m not going to kill you for forgetting.”

Harrison feels two pairs of eyes on him as she requests they use the name he called her so often, but he resolutely ignores them both, instead watching Snow until she gives him the smallest of nods. He stays where he is as she enters the cortex properly, moving closer to Cisco.

“Does that mean,” Ramon asks, “that you’re gonna stick around long enough for us to have a chance to forget?”

“I’d like to try,” she says, coming to a stop near one of the many monitors. “If you’ll have me.”

Cisco and Barry respond at the same time.

“What? Why wouldn’t we…”

“Of _course_ we’ll have you, Cait— Snow, we…”

“...want you here? You belong here, with us.”

“...missed you. It’s good to have you back.”

As Barry and Cisco talk over each other, Snow looks between them. She nods her acceptance and tries for a smile, but Harrison can still see the tension in her shoulders.

“I can’t be the person you knew,” she says, “not exactly.”

Cisco rushes to reassure her, and Barry waits until he’s finished.

“We’ve all changed,” Barry tells her. “You’d be in good company.”

She looks at Harry, and he allows himself a smile, big enough to be reassuring, to show his support, without immediately tipping off the rest of the team to the time they’ve spent together, to how much closer they’ve become.

He thinks it’s entirely possible that the fact he wants to smile at her broadly enough as to be suspicious is probably something he’s going to need to deal with, but that can wait for another time.

Before he can say anything, the warning chimes sound obnoxiously from the computer. Harrison rips his attention from Snow, and he, Barry, and Cisco fall into the familiar pattern of locating and neutralizing the threat with as little harm as possible, including to the perpetrator. It’s familiar and easy and distracting.

The whole room comes to a stop for a beat when Snow contributes, suggesting they cross reference the bio-mechanical signal from Brie’s bees and use that to eliminate anything other than the meta they’re looking for.

It’s brilliant, of course, and Harry knows he’s not the only one who smiles as they get back to work. At that point, it’s all up to Cisco and Barry, who are in far better moods than they have been lately, exchanging banter over the comms about…

Honestly, Harrison’s not even sure _what_ they’re talking about, exactly, except that it’s not got anything to do with their current task. He lets himself cross the room, standing next to Snow, who’s still looking just a bit uncertain. After a moment, he raises his hand, resting it carefully on her upper back, and he feels the tension drain out of her at the contact.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, leaning close so Cisco won’t hear them over his distraction.

She sighs and leans against him, still watching Cisco, and her tone is fond as she responds. “Amazingly, I think I am.”

***

Time is always key to any adjustment, but it seems to pass quickly as Snow once again becomes a fixture in S.T.A.R. Labs. Harry finds himself spending more and more time working as he and Snow get caught up in experiments, debates, and even occasionally borrowing the media room Cisco’s set up at the lab and watching a movie neither of them has seen, if only so they can keep up with the team’s pop culture references.

As far as he can tell, everyone else is nearly as glad to have her back, and he’s not expecting Cisco to corner him one day when Snow has stepped out to grab them all lunch—they’ve started taking turns, with the person who acquires lunch getting to pick the restaurant. It works.

“It’s not normal, how much you and Caitlin touch.”

“Snow,” Harry corrects absently, frowning, feeling his guard go up at Cisco’s almost confrontational tone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean she’s still…” Cisco seems to lose some of his nerve, looking toward where Snow should be appearing soon, then turning back toward Harrison. “You weren’t really here. You don’t know what it was like, to know that if she lost control, she could turn everything to ice. Sometimes we fall into our normal joking, and then I remember that Killer Frost is still in there. What if I say something wrong and she gets pissed? I know she wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, but like… The way you touch her, like it’s nothing, and she touches you back the same, like neither of you are afraid of what she might do—”

Cisco’s been talking faster as he goes, and Harrison feels the anger building inside him that Cisco Ramon, supposedly one of Snow’s best friends despite everything, can be saying anything like this, that he could possibly be saying they should drop the contact in case she loses control.

“How do I get that?” Cisco finishes, looking at Harry with his most earnest expression. “I want that back.”

Harrison feels himself deflate. “Cisco…” He sighs. “She might not be Caitlin anymore, not entirely, but every single thing you loved about Caitlin is still there, right?” He waits for Cisco’s nod before he continues. “Yes, she still has her powers, and yes, maybe that’s changed how she reacts sometimes, but Killer Frost is no longer in the driver’s seat. Killer Frost is the one who hurt you, and you have no _idea_ how much Snow blames herself for that anyway, how little she allows that to be an excuse, but that was not Caitlin. That was not the woman who comes in here, day after day, working alongside her _friends_ to help save Central City.

“If you loved Caitlin, Cisco—and I know you did—then there is no way it’s possible for you not to love her as she is now. And if you love her, you need to accept her for who she is today. And if you do that, if you _really_ let yourself know who Snow is, you will come to trust her as I do.”

Cisco looks a little shellshocked as he processes. “Alright,” he says finally, subdued. “You make it sound so easy. I’ll try my best.”

Harry nods curtly. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

Cisco opens his mouth, then closes it, resuming something more like his normal expression.

Harrison sighs. “What is it, Cisco?”

“Are you and Snow…” He falls quiet, but his mouth pulls to one side like he’s considering a smirk.

“Are we what? Are we scientists? Are we coworkers? Are we losing our minds trying to get a coherent sentence out of you?”

“Are you dating?” There’s the smirk. Not that Cisco smirks like most people; it’s more of a smile and something he does with his eyebrows.

He’s avoiding the question, he knows, in stopping to analyze Cisco’s face, of all things, but he wasn’t expecting it. He can see, given the previous conversation, the mentions of casual contact, his admittedly impassioned response, how Cisco might have come to that conclusion. And really, technically, given their continued coffee dates on days off and the sheer amount of time they spend alone in the lab, one could make a case for it. An inconclusive one, of course, but a case nonetheless.

It makes the answer less straightforward when he realizes that a not insignificant part of him would _like_ to be dating Snow. He’s been pushing his feelings aside, ignoring them because they won’t help her become who she needs to be, won’t help her adjust, but they’re there, so neither a “yes” nor a “no” seems a fitting response to Cisco’s simple question.

If only he’d asked a question with an answer Harry doesn’t have to think about, like whether he trusts her, whether he admires her, whether he lov—

“Hey,” Snow says as she comes into the cortex, walking briskly, large paper bags in hand, “I’m back with Thai food.”

Barry and Wally appear as if summoned, despite the fact they were both in other rooms and shouldn’t have been able to hear her. It’s a good thing, he thinks, that Barry’s well enough now to have regained his radar for copious amounts of food. Cisco, meanwhile, seems willing to let the subject drop, and they all turn to eating before getting back to their daily duties for the afternoon. Ramon doesn’t bring it up again and, mercifully, doesn’t even try shooting him knowing looks.

Harrison knows full well how telling his hesitation was. He had ample time to respond before Snow showed up.

Harry spends the afternoon distracted, and yet, he’s still unable to resist the pull he feels, and he joins her in her lab when the others start clearing out.

“How’s it going?” he asks, coming up behind her.

She carefully sets the glass vials into their tray before turning to face him, much more serious than he expects. “I heard you,” she says, leaning back against the counter and looking up at him, “talking to Cisco.”

“How much did you hear?” He feels a stab of worry that she may have overheard the worst parts, the parts that made him so defensive on her behalf. Surely, though, she’d be more upset were that the case.

“I heard you talking to Cisco about how I’ve changed and how I haven’t.” Her voice is lighter than her expression, and he’s not entirely sure what to make of it. “And I heard him ask if we were dating. I also heard you not answer.”

“You interrupted before I could,” he says, mildly defensive.

“And how were you going to answer?” She takes a step closer to him, and it would be so easy to reach out and touch her. “Because after hearing your voice when you were telling Cisco how easy it is to love me, I wasn’t sure.” She rests her hand on his chest, and he inhales, short and sharp.

“Snow…” For all his usual eloquence, he’s unable to summon any more words.

“If you’ve been waiting for me to be ready,” she says—and right, those are the words he was looking for, “you don’t need to wait anymore.”

She leans in, and he does the same, with just the barest brush of his lips against hers, the tiniest taste before he straightens.

“You’re sure?” he asks, his throat tight, because how can he be getting something he wanted so much on the very day he finally admitted how much he wants it?

“I’m sure,” she says simply. “I know who I am now, and I don’t _need_ to be with you like this. I’d be okay if we stayed friends.” She shrugs one shoulder. “But I’d _like_ to be more, if you’re interested.”

“Like to—” He cuts off with a surge of disbelief that she could question something that was, looking back, exceedingly obvious. Before he can say more, though, Cisco enters the room, oblivious and louder than seems necessary after the quiet moment.

“Hey, so I thought we could watch a movie tonight. I got ahold of a good copy of Wonder Woman—and I paid for it, Snow, so don’t even try giving me that look—and I’ve got popcorn and drinks.”

Snow smiles up at Harry before dropping her hand and shifting her attention to Cisco. Harry sighs before following suit.

“That sounds great, Cisco,” she says, completely at ease, and there’s no way on any Earth that Harrison could stop his fond look in her direction.

Cisco remains oblivious to the energy between Harry and Snow while they all get situated in front of the movie—though Harry has to admit, given the younger man’s perceptiveness earlier in the day, it’s possible the ignorance is entirely feigned—and before long, they’re all comfortable and the movie’s starting.

“Popcorn?” Cisco offers from the other side of Snow.

Harry, who’s been stewing some over the fact that he never responded to Snow’s statement, looks straight at her while he’s answering. “I’d like that very much. I’m very interested. In popcorn.”

He can tell she gets it by the way her smile softens and her eyes shine at him, and it’s hard to focus long enough to take the popcorn Cisco’s handing him.

It’s easy, a few minutes later, to focus on how good it feels, watching a movie with his hand in Snow’s, their fingers linked like they do this every day.

The real victory, though, comes when Snow jokingly threatens to kill Cisco if he makes one more Monty Python reference while they’re trying to watch this movie.

It’s not the threat that’s important, of course, though it’s significant that she’s comfortable enough to joke that way. No, it’s a victory because the room doesn’t fall quiet, there’s no flinch from Cisco, not a second’s hesitation before the man’s easy, “Pssssh, you _wish,”_ and then the conversation moves on like nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

His hand tightens on hers, and she leans her head on his shoulder. Cisco spares them a glance and a small smile of his own before tossing another handful of popcorn in his mouth and turning back to the movie.

***

Passionate. Even when she was Caitlin, Snow often came across as cold, but that’s never been what Harry sees when he looks at her.

He sees passion, for doing what she thinks is right, for science, for the people she cares about.

And when those things overlap, like when he and Snow are arguing about a potential scientific advancement that could bring in significant funds for the much-in-need S.T.A.R. labs but has several potential complications, she’s just as passionate in her arguments.

He ignores the fact that Cisco, Wally, and Barry are sharing a container of popcorn. It’s become a bit of a thing that whenever Harry and Caitlin argue, Cisco produces popcorn out of nowhere, and anyone else present helps consume it while they have entertainment. The only reason Harry hasn’t put a stop to the whole thing is that he knows it genuinely amuses Snow.

She doesn’t look amused now, but alight, like every ounce of passion she feels for her side of the argument is shining through every surface. At this moment, nobody would think she had ever been someone called Killer Frost.

“That’s so near-sighted, Harry!” she snaps, stepping in close. “Maybe you should try wearing your glasses.”

“I can see just fine, Snow,” he retorts, and it’s true.

But the only thing he wants to see right now is her. As always—well, except when the opposite is true—she seems to be on the same wavelength, and he’s not sure which of them moves, but their lips crash together in the way that’s become so familiar since that fateful movie night, and long seconds pass before he remembers that they never actually got around to sharing their change in relationship with the others.

He pulls back, relieved to see she looks amused rather than upset that the cat’s out of the bag. He takes a breath before looking around.

Wally has a fist pressed to his mouth, badly hiding a huge smile. Cisco’s watching them, mouth and eyes wide despite the fact he had the best chance of guessing what was going on. Barry’s frozen with a piece of popcorn halfway to his mouth. At least Jesse isn’t here today; she’s known almost since the beginning and would probably already be teasing him mercilessly.

Harrison closes his eyes for a moment, then turns back to Snow. It’s much easier addressing her than it is the rest of the room. “Think they’ve figured out we’re dating?”

“It’s a slight possibility,” she says in a mock whisper, and he leans in for another kiss.

There’s no reason not to, he figures; his love for this woman has been painfully obvious for ages now. All they’ve revealed is that, miraculously, she feels the same for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a follow-up already loosely plotted, three chapters that cover from shortly after this ends until years into their future. It should loosely tie in with [No Superhero](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11008386), but none of the stories need to be read together for understanding.


End file.
